Dawn by McKayla Box
Chapter 26
Trevor eventually leaves and I climb back into bed, sleeping for a few hours before I rouse myself and get up. I stumble into the kitchen and see my dad sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal.
He raises an amused eyebrow in my direction. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah,” I say, yawning. “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”
He winces. “I know. I’m sorry about that. It’s just that—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I say, sitting down across from him. “I just wanted to say hi.”
He smiles. “Well, hi.”
I hold up a hand.
He eyes me for a moment. “Rough night last night?”
Loaded question.
“I…I was just up late, that’s all,” I tell him.
He nods. “Gotcha. I’ve gotten used to you being gone, so it hasn’t even occurred to ask you about when you’re getting home or what you’re doing. And that also would seem a bit hypocritical of me, given my absence around here.”
“I’ve just been hanging out with the girls,” I say. “And Trevor.”
“You guys are good then?”
I hesitate, then nod. “Think so.”
“Good,” he says. “That’s good to hear.”
I sit down at the table. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Always.”
“Before Mom had the affair, like way back, did you keep secrets from one another?” I ask.
He picks up his coffee. “Well, that’s coming right out of left field.”
“Sorry. Just something I was thinking about.”
“It’s alright,” he says. “We probably need to talk more about that stuff. I know that I’m not super pleasant when talking about your mom. I need to be better about that.”
“Well, it’s not like I blame you.”
He shrugs. “Still. I’m the adult and parent here. Okay. Did we keep secrets from one another?” He thinks for a moment. “I don’t think so? At least not ones that really mattered. I mean, I guess I can’t speak for your mother, but I don’t think I did. Were there small things? Sure.” He smiles. “There were a few times I told her I made my lunch to take to work, but ate out instead. Always paid cash so it couldn’t be traced.”
I laugh.
“But I can’t really think of much,” he says. “In the beginning, I think we were pretty open with one another. I’m not sure exactly how and when all that changed, but it obviously did. I’m not sure that’s really your question, though. When things were good?” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe we really did. Because I think we would’ve known if we were doing that and things might not have been as good for as long as they actually were.”
“Like, you think you would’ve known if she was keeping something from you?” I ask. “Or you would’ve known if she was doing that?”
He nods. “I think so, yeah. I know it’s probably hard to imagine, given the way things ended, but your mom and I were pretty good together in the early years. We had fun. We were friends. If I kept things from her, it wasn’t on purpose.” He smiles. “Or I just can’t remember.”
“Is there ever a good time to keep things from someone?” I ask. “Like, have you ever done that and felt like it was justified?”
“Where is this coming from, Pres?”
I shrug. “Just thinking about things, that’s all.”
He smirks. “I’m old, but I’m not dumb. Alright. You don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. Is there ever a good time?” He thinks for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Because it probably won’t lead to anything good. It will lead to distrust. Resentment. Hurt feelings. I suppose you might be able to convince me with a really specific case where keeping something from another purpose is actually protecting them for some reason, but I would have to say that those are probably few and far between.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay. That’s what I thought.”
“Anything you want to share with me?” he asks, picking up his empty bowl and taking it to the sink.
“Um…not really,” I tell him. “And I don’t mean like I don’t want to talk about it with you. I’m just trying to figure out a few things right now. Nothing bad.”
He rinses out the bowl. “You sure? You got up early to see me and just have a hypothetical, philosophical conversation?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m just trying to figure some things out right now.”
“Are you the one keeping the secret or the one being kept in the dark?”
“Both, actually.”
He nods and pours the coffee from his mug into his travel thermos. “You want my advice?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let things fester,” he says. “Ask yourself why you’re keeping the secret and ask yourself why the other person is keeping things from you. There’s rarely a good reason. And then ask yourself if that’s something you want to live with. Because once you start, it’s hard to stop, you know? It gets easier to keep the other person in the dark and that’s not a place you want to be.”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “That makes sense.”
He screws the cap on his thermos. “Sure you don’t want to talk about it? I can go in a bit later.”
“No, you can’t,” I tell him. “And I’m sure. I’m good. Thank you for talking to me.”
“Always,” he says. “Be home tonight?”
“I have no idea,” I tell him.
“I’ll…probably be late,” he says with a sigh.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Really. I can occupy myself.”
“Alright. Whatever you do, be safe. Maybe give me a little heads up on what you’re doing. So I can feel like I’m doing the parenting thing right.”
I laugh. “Sure.”
He leaves and I sit there at the kitchen table, thinking about what he said. I knew that’s what he would tell me. I think I was just hoping he might say something different that might make me feel better about what’s going on between Trevor and me.
But it doesn’t make me feel better.
It just makes me feel more worried.